


Seven Days of Valentine

by TashaVick87



Category: Succession (TV 2018)
Genre: Developing Relationship, Drama, F/M, Feelings, Smut, a bit of angst, a lot of emotion, belated Valentine's Day fic, demisexual roman ftw again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 13:14:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29472267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TashaVick87/pseuds/TashaVick87
Summary: She is sitting at her desk, hands steepled in front of her face, tips of her fingers resting on her lips. He focuses on the way that full bottom lip always juts out slightly further than the upper one, on the way her eyebrows are perfectly shaped and are always the indicator of her mood. The calm, motionless way they're resting above her sapphire eyes now does nothing to reassure him in his fear that she would cut him off, that he would never again be allowed to see her the way she lets no one else see her.''What exactly was the plan here, walk me through it.''He's not sure if she means it, but her eyes laser in on his then, and he realizes that yes, it was a genuine question.
Relationships: Gerri Kellman/Roman "Romulus" Roy
Comments: 4
Kudos: 27





	Seven Days of Valentine

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't think I was going to be able to finish this on time - and I was right, lol - but, a day later isn't that bad, I figure. So, enjoy this V-day fic, let me know if you liked it, feedback is always very much appreciated! :)

It was going to be a good day, he could feel it.

''Yo, Casey, how is my schedule looking on this fine Sunday?'', he calls out to his assistant.

''You are set for the day, just a few phone calls and a video conference regarding last month's Tyco merger. Gerri wanted me to tell you she wants to be there for that, so she will be coming by in half an hour.''

He had counted on that the previous evening as he put his plans in motion.

''Okee-dokey, shoot of a text of confirmation to the big boss.''

Casey does as told, and Roman turns back to his phone, checking off items from his list of plans for the day.

* * *

She climbs out of her car, immediately feeling crowded by the two burly men the board insisted she take on as personal protection detail.

Though, she _was_ happy to have them on hand the week before when that lunatic tried to egg her. She was rather fond of that coat. They had suggested she don’t use the front entrance anymore, but she wouldn't want to give anyone the satisfaction of thinking they had her beat.

It had seemed she had, for some reason, inherited all of Logan's haters now as well as his CEO title. Sometimes she envied the bastard, cooped up cozily in the Summer Palace. True, waiting for his trial, but oh, what she wouldn't give for a few hours of uninterrupted sleep. Rest. Sex. Wait- where did that come from?

She shakes the image of a panting Roman out of her mind, the fact that it was at the forefront of her mind surprising her even though it really shouldn't.

Ever since they'd gotten back, taken over leadership from Logan, their…dalliance, or whatever one deigned call it if they thought about it in any type of depth, had progressed enough for her to be unable to sleep for nights on end, her own hand between her thighs, fantasy after fantasy fired off in her overstimulated brain, her body racing eagerly to catch up.

The words that started it all weren't even needed anymore. It was enough for her to look at him, quirk a menacing eyebrow and he was a goner, fucking into his hand, coming all over her floors. When she did speak, it was dirty and thorough, but not vicious, words uttered to steer him, prolong the pleasure, edge herself, legs squeezing together, barely calm in the plush chair in the corner of her bedroom, her hand reaching inevitably closer to the swollen, aroused flesh between her legs.

She gained a perverse type of additional pleasure in making him clean up after himself, in observing the slight stains left behind long after he is gone.

But they were both cowards. What started off as an unchartered attempt to rein him in, help him focus, had now taken on a life of its own and she was caught up.

What they both needed to decide now, was - backwards or forwards? All she knew is, she hated when any type of regression happened, so she knew her answer, right there.

The irony of having decided to talk to him about it on Valentine's day doesn't escape her.

* * *

She exits the elevator, and is immediately swooped down on by another two members of their security team. She recognizes them as Roman's and her heart kicks into high gear.

''Daniel, what's happening?''

''Ms. Kellman, we've detected a suspicious, unsigned package this morning, it was delivered to your office. We don't know by who yet, and we don't know how, the downstairs footage shows no one entering and dropping it off, though we have yet to check the floor footage. We need you to come with us, Mr. Roy is already in the car in the garage, waiting. We might need to call the police, have them call a bomb squad.''

* * *

''What the fuck is happening, can someone tell me?'', Roman asks, hand nervously running through his hair, other hand sweaty and slippery against the leather of the car seat.

''Daniel and Ron were told that Ms. Kellman just came in – so they're gonna pick her up and we’ll be on our way.'', Phil, the third member of his security team tells him.

Roman's stomach settles at the mention of Gerri, glad that, if anything is going down he's going to be able to stop worrying about her.

As he says it, she is almost shoved into the car with him, and he feels the guys section off into three cars, one in front, two with them, and all of her guys following in the car behind.

''What the fuck? Gerri, come on, I was having such a good day, what’s happening?''

''Daniel, what's the status on the police?'', she asks, hand unknowingly coming out to grasp his, his pulse erratic against the pads of his fingers. He slides his hand down and clings to the comfort. He was more alarmed about her not being next to him than he thought.

''They're five minutes out.''

''Good, keep me posted'', she says to the man via the reflection of the rearview mirror, finally putting her phone aside, facing Roman.

''They found a suspicious package in my office. No address, no sender, just attn:CEO written on the front. Given our past experiences with shootings and, well, eggings, we need to be careful.''

* * *

She is going to kill him. But whatever she decides to do to him is going to be child's play compared to what's going to happen to him if someone actually ends up opening that package.

He slams his fist on the partition button, getting on his knees on the floor in front of her seat.

''You have to turn the car around.''

She is poised to ask why when she reads the look on his face. Her eyes widen in shock.

''For fuck's sake Roman, what did you do?''

''Let's just say you really, really REALLY don't want anyone to open that package and start asking questions.''

* * *

''Turn the car around, Daniel.'', she instructs, hoping her voice was calm enough.

''And talk to the police. I know who the package is from, I just got a message from one of my daughters, let them know it was a false alarm.''

Daniel and the rest of them, bless them, ask no further questions, obeying without trouble. Her heart rate settles back to somewhat normal and she focuses her glare on the passing buildings. Because if she looks at him and his puppy eyes, she's not quite sure the heat of her rage won't incinerate him on the spot.

''Gerri, I-''

''Not now. We will talk later. Tyco video conference, then I have a few calls to make, and then we'll talk. Come to my office at 6.''

He’s never heard this Gerri. The amount of anger almost fucking sautéed in disappointment makes him want to weep. Instead, he simply nods, accepts that the one good thing he has in his life is coming to an end.

* * *

At 5:55, he is almost jumping out of skin to get to her, but doesn’t want to anger her further by being early. Exactly four minutes later, he sets out to her office, noting that the blinds were already down.

He swallows some more of the nerves that keep feeling like they want to fizz out of his throat, and enters.

''Hey.'', he says, grimacing at his own childish entrance.

She is sitting at her desk, hands steepled in front of her face, tips of her fingers resting on her lips. He focuses on the way that full bottom lip always juts out slightly further than the upper one, on the way her eyebrows are perfectly shaped and are always the indicator of her mood. The calm, motionless way they're resting above her sapphire eyes now does nothing to reassure him in his fear that she would cut him off, that he would never again be allowed to see her the way she lets no one else see her.

''What exactly was the plan here, walk me through it.''

He's not sure if she means it, but her eyes laser in on his then, and he realizes that yes, it was a genuine question.

''I...the package, and then, maybe a special night at...my place?''

His place. This was his big move. Because she never allowed it to be anywhere but her house, he must have felt literally moving into new territory would be...moving into new territory. She would have to agree, but for the fact that he almost blew their cover in front of the entire building.

''Roman, sometimes I really wonder what's going on inside that head of yours? Why would you risk something like this. What even is in here?''

''Open it.''

She starts to shut him down, to ask him how he can even think about that now, but she knows it will hurt him, and no matter what she used to tell him to get him going, get him to always crawl back begging for more, she would never want to hurt him. She is just that stuck.

She sighs, grabs a letter opener and starts working on the dull brown packing paper.

''I see a lot of thought went into presentation-'', she murmurs jokingly, but is cut short when she lifts the last of the paper away.

Inside is a huge box of her favorite Belgian chocolates, ones she knew he had to have shipped all the way from their place of origin because they were not sold in the US. She knows, she checked and double-checked many times.

She lifts the lid of the heart shaped item, a smile already on her lips, but then is further surprised, snaps her head towards him so quickly she thinks she may have given herself whiplash.

Inside, underneath all the chocolates, there seems to be a fabric of some sort, cushioning all the indentations gently. And then she further notices that in addition to seeing the glinting silver and gold foil of the chocolate wrapping paper, she also sees actual silver and gold.

He leans in and picks one of the items up.

''I bought it the day we arrived back home, never had the guts to actually give it to you. You sort of kept me sane during the whole hostage situation thing. Well, the thought of you did, anyway.''

He holds up the fine silver bracelet with a tiny anchor pendant attached to it. He gently takes her hand, and she allows him to put it on her wrist.

''This one – '', he continues, ''- is a little ha-ha, you know, for shits and giggles.''

He hands her a tiny, tastefully crafted amber brooch in the shape of a beagle.

''Though this one isn't a slime puppy, I figure it was a good enough inside joke.''

She looks up to the ceiling, keeping the tears at bay. Oh, she really needed a drink.

''Roman-'', she starts, but he puts his hand up.

''Just let me finish, then you can yell at me, okay? Okay. Now, those two are for Mondays and Tuesdays. We still have five more to go. I figured I owed you a present for every day of the week you put up with me.''

She smiles, and he pulls out the remaining five presents, lines them up on the desk in front of her.

He walks to her side to better explain the meanings.

''This one, Wednesday, I got the day after Dad got arrested.''

He came to her that night, completely drunk, needing a shoulder to cry on. The way Tabitha deposited him with her told her everything she needed to know about that relationship, as if she wasn't already completely aware.

''You're the only one he trusts, Gerri. I'm glad he has you.'', the blonde had said and Gerri knew she liked her for a reason.

That night, when she tucked him in, and spent the better part of the night by his side, making sure he didn't choke on his own vomit, was the night she'd admitted to herself that there would be no going back from this, for either of them.

Roman pulls her back to the present, turning the ring towards her. It was a sapphire-emerald combination, chunky and stylish, just like the rings she favored on any other day of the week.

She takes it from him, places it on her finger, noticing how well it fit.

The gifts for Thursday, Friday are equally beautiful. A pair of diamond earrings he got when she asked him to secure the white knight. Another bracelet, rose-gold this time, with a tiny watch pendant, bought when they were in Japan, the first gift he ever bought wither her in mind, equally scared to actually give it to her.

''I got Saturday over here after Tern Haven.''

Tern Haven. The turning point in their relationship, if one could even call it that back then. He hands her the ornate hair pin, emerald encrusted silver, glinting and outrageously expensive most likely, and she is unable to keep her eyes off him.

''Why a hair pin?''

He shrugs.

''I know you prefer your hair down these days, but I will never forget the way it was up that weekend. And since I couldn't stop thinking about it – among other things, I just...bought this.''

She clears her throat as he immediately turns to Sunday's item, a locket on an intricate silver chain.

She looks down, turns the thing in her hands, snaps it open, surprised to see a picture of herself inside, taken at Shiv's wedding.

''I don't know why that one, so don't ask. You were radiant and I...anyway.''

When she turns it over, the simple engraving takes her breath away.

_''To Gerri, love, Roman.''_

No frills, no BS, no Roy attempts at verbose confectionary engraved on piles of money. Just thoughtful, meaningful words and gifts with stories behind them _._

She stands up abruptly, walking to the windows, looking out into the dark, clutching the medallion in her hand, feeling all of her new jewelry causing a ripple of affection to course through her, affection she'd always tried very hard to tame.

''Thank you'', she says weakly, completely at a loss for any words that would do the situation justice.

''I'm sorry.'', she hears him say, hears his footsteps move to the doors.

''Don't. Don't go. Talk to me. This all could have been avoided if you'd talked to me, Rome.'', she implores, walking back to her seat, her eyes pulling him back into the room with her, back into her aura.

* * *

''I wanted to change it.''

''Change what?'', she asks, the gentle, innocent tilt of her head causing his insides to stir in adoration.

''Us. I wanted more, as ever, as the feckless Roy that I was brought up to be.''

''Roman.'', she interrupts, her voice stern.'' Don't ever compare yourself to the rest of them again.''

She is angry and sad and rejoicing at the same time, he can see all the emotions trapped in her glassy eyes, in the tension around them just waiting for a moment when it can be released.

''Can I suggest something?'', he tries, hoping she wouldn't turn him down.

She nods.

''Dinner? My place?''

She sniffs, looks away for a second and wipes away tears they both pretend not to notice.

She gets up, stares into the box, noticing the final gift he forgot to mention. She removes the remaining chocolates and lifts the fabric gently, the light of her desk lamp hitting the silk at such an angle the saturation of the maroon color almost causes her to lose breath, awed at his choice.

''Silk night gown?'', she smirks through the mountain of emotions the day caused.

''I didn't want to go for bras or panties, it felt a bit crude, and sizing would be an issue, but I figured my eye was precise enough that the size for the gown wouldn't be way off, so...'', he shrugs, eyes roaming the carpet.

* * *

She takes a few minutes to carefully place all of the gifts in her purse, finally ready to leave. She looks at him and can almost feel the tension in his body, the fear she'll leave him behind.

''Rome.'', she approaches him cautiously, as one might a fawn, and strokes a hand gently down the side of his face. She is wearing heels so their heights are perfectly matched, and she allows herself a deep breath, letting in the intoxicating, male scent of him, the aftershave of the day having half-worn off. She can almost taste the palpitations of his heart, so equal to hers, so unbelievably annoying and thrilling at the same time.

She is but an inch away from his skin, pushes in further, pressing a gentle, barely there kiss against the skin of his neck, her lipstick leaving a tiny imprint against the collar of his shirt as she pulls away.

* * *

He refuses to control himself further, and his hands come up to cup her face, their first kiss happening in the middle of her office, in the center of an empire they're trying to rebuild, happening in a way neither of them would have guessed.

As she slips her tongue in his mouth, dancing gently against his, all thought leaves his head. As his hands reach for more of her, his mind expands to nothing and everything, the pulse of her being the only thing tattooed onto its firing synapses.

She pulls away and wipes his mouth free of her makeup with her thumb and he leans in, almost whines into her shoulder.

''Much as I would love for our first actual time to be on this desk right here'', she whispers soothingly, ''I am really tired, so...would you mind taking me home and making love to me in a comfy bed with multiple thread count sheets on it, sheets I can comfortably fall asleep in afterwards?''

* * *

If she thought the car ride to his penthouse was excruciating, the elevator ride to the top is even worse.

Acutely aware of the security cameras she really thinks he should get rid of in the future, she huddles in one corner of the metal contraption, facing him, her breaths uneven and ragged, mimicking his to a tee.

* * *

He stops her at the very door as she attempts to walk in, his possessive hands reaching for her hips, coiling firmly around her, and she lets him do whatever he wants, lets him lead, because she is so tired of being the boss, wants nothing more than to be taken by him, even if it meant it's going to happen on the tiles of the foyer.

When he picks her up, she relaxes in his hold, one arm wrapped around his shoulders, the fingers of her free hand mapping the contours of his face.

* * *

When he reaches the bed, he sets her down gently, then lays them both down, lips claiming hers quickly, roughly. He swallows her greedy moan as he gathers enough courage to start unbuttoning her shirt.

She can feel his hands, shaky against the fabric of her clothes, helps by simply undoing them for him, revealing a lacy bra underneath he immediately nuzzles into, his hard-on pressed against her inner thigh. Her legs spread instinctively wider, her skirt bunching around her hips.

He unzips her quickly, the fabric flying off her body, followed by the bra and panties she almost feels are suffocating on her overheated skin.

His hand travels up her still stockinged thigh, and she has an inkling he left her in them for a reason. She grins through the haze of arousal.

When his palm traverses past the stocking and reaches skin she gasps, grabs his wrist, pulling his eager fingers quicker upwards, her other hand ripping his shirt from his frame, already working on his pants, the offending garments both soon thrown to the floor, joining her clothes. She notes inanely she maybe isn’t that good at not leading, giggles to herself.

He presses a quick kiss to her lips, changing the giggle to a groan, his dexterous fingers slipping into her at such a perfect angle she arches her back into him in surprised pleasure, her nipples brushing his chest. He presses his forehead to hers, pants into her, and the fact they're breathing the same air, and the position they're in makes her slam her head back into the mattress, unable to stop the room from spinning.

His hand is diligent, ever so tender and incredibly possessive on her, inside of her, and she feels like it’s setting her on fire.

She manages to stop him before it's too late, encourages him onto his back.

''We have all the time in the world, Rome. Slow now...'', she breathes out, climbing on top of him then, sliding the slick of her arousal across his lower abdomen, the ripple of taut muscles jolting against her swollen clit, and she bucks into the feel before stopping herself, reaching behind to grasp him in her hold, hot and steel-firm.

It's not long before he is pushing needily into her hand and she lets go, slides down, her body opening up to him eagerly, immediately, their bodies interlocking effortlessly, pleasure rocketing through both their bodies almost without mercy.

He grips her hips, sits up and then they're in the middle of the bed, looking into each other's eyes before she feels him move again inside of her, the slow roll of his hips onto hers so overwhelming she has to bury her head in the crook of his neck in order to calm herself.

Long minutes of pleasure later, she isn't able to contain herself any longer and she bites the pulse point that is his jugular. The action makes him frantic as he changes their position again, the palms of her hands now on his buttocks as she lies on her back, encouraging the erratic completion, aching and overwhelmingly satisfied at the same time.

''Don't stop...fuck...Ro-Rome...'', she gasps as she senses her orgasm swallow her whole, body snapping forward, up into his, his strong movements taking her through the aftershocks just as he goes over his own brink, hands digging into her sides, the slight pain only augmenting the ecstasy.

They are catching their breath, and, facing the ceiling she feels a bead of sweat roll of her forehead and into her hair, feels him lift himself up above her, his palm swiping across her hairline, wiping it gently away.

There will be time for conversations later, just like she told him, for conversations and many other things. For now, she feels like one thing will suffice.

''Happy Valentine's day, Rockstar.'', she says between breaths.

He teases his lips over hers before kissing her deeply and then breaking away to focus on her face again.

''Happy Valentine's Day, Molewoman.''


End file.
